Embers Before Me
by Curt Kenobi
Summary: It's been done many times before, but I hope I offer something new in mine. As ObiWan Kenobi stands at QuiGon's funeral pyre, he reflects.


**Embers Before Me**

rating: K+

Summary: (It's been done many times before, but I hope I offer something new in mine.) As Obi-Wan Kenobi stands at Qui-Gon's funeral pyre, he reflects.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. I keep wishing to have Obi-Wan and it still hasn't happened yet.

a/n: Just a little drabblish one-shot (gasp!) that I wrote about three years ago. May turn it into a two-part (see, I told you I couldn't do one-shots) but right now, it's just this.

* * *

The fires crackle...and once again I have lost him in a matter of days. 

Only now it is forever.

I watch the orange and yellow engulf the form, obscuring him from view, reminding me this time he's gone and there is no retrieval. All the years, all the memories, run through my mind, good and bad, sad and happy, tough, trying, painful, uplifting. All the way up to the duel with the red-and-black-tattooed Sith, the match that ended it all. No more memories to share.

_It's all my fault... I could have been faster -- I should have been faster... I shouldn't have fallen... I should have fought better -- I could have fought better..._ I berate myself over and over -- things I could have done, things I should have done.

But I didn't.

And then I berate myself on dwelling on the past, on all my supposed faults and wrongs. The Force only flows forward. _"Your focus determines your reality." _

"There is no emotion; there is peace."

I hear a small sniff from beside me. I try hard not to stiffen. _Him._ That little blond nine-year-old whom Qui-Gon had put so much faith in. _Chosen One._ The one I had lost my Master to first on this mission from Sith hell.

_"I take Anakin as my Padawan learner."_ A forceful blow to my pride, that. I had lived over twelve years of my life as something of a son to Qui-Gon Jinn. And then this boy -- this little dusty brat who had come from nowhere -- a Podracing slave-boy from Tatooine -- just came into the scene and took what I saw as rightfully mine. Twelve years -- and I worked so hard just to become his Padawan. Then this boy's just...gifted it. And I'm swept from the picture like a dust-particle to the wind -- which was how I felt.

How could Qui-Gon just throw me away like that? I knew he felt that I was already ready for the Trials, even before the Skywalker boy. But did he have to go about it to the Council in such a manner? So...brusquely. And not just saying that I was ready for the Trials -- trying to replace me while I was present.

_The boy is dangerous, Master. They all sense it -- why can't you?"_

_"His future is uncertain; he's not dangerous."_ He was -- _had _been -- a danger to my security. _Selfish me. _No matter how badly -- how very badly I wished to pin blame on the boy, I could not. Visions non-withstanding. Those were insubstantial and unclear. Skywalker was just a small, frightened little boy. Taken from his mother by Qui-Gon, and now Qui-Gon taken from him. And no matter how hot my resentment towards him flared and burned -- Qui-Gon's last words had been, after all, all for him -- I realised he was just as alone as me.

At least I could reassure him, however small it may be. I mean, who was I? Another Jedi, a stranger to the boy, despite my former status as the man who had taken him, Anakin, under his wing's more or less son. I was really the only person the boy had here, now. Padmé had reclaimed her position as Queen now the threat to her safety had passed.

I can hear his uncertain thoughts and feel the sorrow churning within. _Qui-Gon's gone. Where am I gonna go? I can't go back to Mom. But...no. Obi-Wan doesn't even like me. _Oddly, he reminds me of myself -- when I was thirteen and destined for the Agri Corps.

I sigh inwardly. I don't dislike the boy. I'm wary. I'm jealous. _"The boy is dangerous."_ I had dismissed those foreboding thoughts when it came down. The final wish of my Master had won out, drowning out my own caution. All I had ever wanted was to make Qui-Gon Jinn proud.

"Train him."

And so I went against Master Yoda, whose wisdom held the same suspicions of the boy as my own feelings did. But I went against him, threatening to follow my Master's wish without Council approval if that was what it came to. And finally, reservation clear, the venerable master consented.

I look to Anakin. His blue eyes -- which painfully remind me of Qui-Gon's own keen blues -- glisten with yet-unshed tears and his uncertainty is written across his round, tanned, tear-streaked face. He turns and meets my gaze, and it strikes me that honestly, the last thing I want is to talk to this child. Yes, I am now his Master. I have given up a career as a Knight to train the supposed Chosen One -- forfeited freedom, really.

"What will happen to me now?" he asks me, sounding so forlorn. _He's just a lost boy_.

And I tell him, despite everything, I say, "The Council has given me permission to train you. You will become a Jedi" -- just as Qui-Gon wished for him -- "I promise."

His face brightens a bit, the tension in him eases, and he gives me a small nod. Then he turns back to the pyre, sniffing quietly again. I sigh and watch the flames dance and lick and flicker, and remember the moment my Master died -- in my arms, the last thing upon his mind this boy. I stifle a sniff of my own and blink back a persistent tear. I am sad, and angry. I have no time for either. But my Master -- my _father _-- is gone.

There is no death; there is the Force.

I know this is true. I just wish...

And then I stare at nothing but embers before me. Qui-Gon Jinn is truly one with the Force. I stand alone in the pavillion, everyone having drifted back to the Palace to turn in for the night. Just me and the ashes of the man who had meant everything to me left here.

I look out and see the night sky, deep, velvety blue-black with white twinkling stars. Open and empty, but at the same time endless possibility. Much like my life at this point. But I have committed myself to training Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One.

"_I will train him well, Master. I promise_."


End file.
